


All in the Gutter

by captainpeggy



Series: All in the Gutter [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Coming Out, Gen, Internalized Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 16:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16371335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainpeggy/pseuds/captainpeggy
Summary: “I just wanted to talk,” said Vax.“About anything in particular? Or did you just need some general wisdom? I haven’t got anyone to scribe for me, and I usually prefer to be eminently quotable when I’m being recorded, but—”Vax crossed his arms. “I wanted to talk about Lawrence.”Money gets rid of a lot of problems, but there's a few that can't be helped by anything but some kind words from an almost-friend.Or: The Vax-comes-out-to-Tary scene we never got in canon.





	All in the Gutter

**Author's Note:**

> I was being sad on Tumblr about Tary never getting to talk to other gay folks about his issues, and then I realized I could write that shit my damn self. Thanks, me! 
> 
> Title is from an Oscar Wilde quote: "We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking up at the stars."

“I want to talk to you.”

The voice startled Taryon, and his tools clattered to the workbench as he threw his hands up in a wild attempt to defend himself. For a split second, he went to call for Doty before remembering that all that existed of his faithful companion in the moment was lying disassembled and broken on the table before him: a pulse of sadness took the edge off his adrenaline rush, and he closed his eyes. “Hello... Vax.”

“Hi, Tary.” The man’s voice was softer than Tary had ever heard it, gentle. It took him almost as much by surprise as Vax’s sudden appearance out of the shadows had, to hear the kindness in the voice of this assassin— and to hear it directed at _him,_ that was certainly new.

Tary pulled off his work goggles and threw them down on top of his tools. “To what do I owe this honour?”

“I just wanted to talk,” said Vax.

“About anything in particular? Or did you just need some general wisdom? I haven’t got anyone to scribe for me, and I usually prefer to be eminently quotable when I’m being recorded, but—”

Vax crossed his arms. “I wanted to talk about Lawrence.”

Oh. Of course.

Part of Tary really had been expecting this. They’d seemed fine with— well, with him, at least in the moment. They’d actually been shockingly kind about it. Open-minded to a point where he’d questioned whether he was being played, whether he was going to wind up the town laughingstock or, hell, maybe it’d go the other way and he’d wake up with a knife in his chest. Neither was out of the question, in his experience. Privilege usually kept you safe enough, but here, his name wasn’t worth much, and his money only made him a bigger target. 

He’d been drunk, or at least tipsy, and he’d desperately wanted to trust somebody. That was why he’d told them in the first place, because he’d wanted to believe he _could,_ that it wouldn’t change things, wouldn’t lace their gaze with venom every time they looked at him. And the stars had aligned, and they hadn’t given a damn. 

The woman… that was a mistake, and he knew it the whole time, but he’d needed to give it one last try. One last-ditch effort to change. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe things had changed. Maybe it had been a phase— but he knew it hadn’t been, and the only thing it did was make him more certain of the fact. He felt a little bad about it, not for himself, but for her. She probably deserved better than a dashing genius with identity issues.

But that was all beside the point now.

Tary took a careful, slow breath, eyed where his satchel lay on a stool nearby. Maybe he could get there before Vax got a dagger to his throat— and do what? Alchemist’s fire would be a good diversion, but that relied on him not only beating Vax to the draw, but also on beating him out the door once he threw the alchemical bomb. One he could do, maybe. Both, certainly not. The man was _fast._

Curse Percival for putting his workshop in a basement. Practicality be damned, what Taryon really needed was a window.

Vax hopped nimbly up onto the workbench, perched comfortably with one leg dangling down and the other tucked up to his chin. “You didn’t seem— well, I don’t know, I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but you didn’t seem okay with it. I wondered if you wanted to… talk? Look, I’m not good at this. Talking, that was Scanlan’s thing, but—”

“If you’re going to attack me,” said Tary, cutting him off, “I’d quite rather you get it over with.”

Vax looked at him with utter bewilderment. “What are you _talking_ about?”

“I’m quite certain you didn’t come in here to talk, so why don’t we cut straight to the chase? You have me cornered.” Tary puffed out his chest with as much dignity as he could muster. “Make it quick.”

“Taryon, I don’t know what the hell you’re going on about. You think— what? That I’m here to _hurt_ you?”

“I appreciate you at least waiting till I was awake. It’ll look much better in the memoirs this way.”

Vax squinted at him, head cocked to one side. 

“I like men, Tary. Women too, obviously. Hell, I’ve met people who were neither who made me weak at the knees— but that’s not the _point._ The other night… I just wanted to say I’m sorry, and that you aren’t the only one.”

Tary blinked. “No.”

Vax looked bemused. “No?”

“No— I—”

“Use your words, T. I thought you were good at those.”

Taryon blinked again, harder, turned back to the table and grabbed a set of pliers and a coil of wire. His hands flew, wrapping and twisting the metal around itself, twining it into an even bundle. He didn’t look back at Vax.

“You. _Really_ ,” he said finally, still not looking up.

“Yes, _really,_ ” replied Vax. 

“I don’t believe you.” Tary went to thread the wire back into itself, but his hands had started to shake, and it jabbed into his finger instead. He winced.

“What possible reason could I have to lie?”

“I don’t know. You adventuring types, you have your ways, you’ve got your reasons.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Tary saw Vax look away from him, heard him sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair. “What do you want, a list of names? Testimony from my sister? A detailed description of what it feels like to get fucked? Is it _really_ so alien to you that you might not be alone?”

Tary tried to thread the wire again, to no avail, and went to hurl it onto the workbench with a roar of frustration. A hand caught his wrist, thin half-elven fingers surprisingly strong on his arm: Vax took the pliers from him, slid the end back into the metal weave, and placed it on the table. “Your father lied to you, Taryon. There’s nothing wrong with you. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“ _You,_ ” said Tary, voice quivering. “You’re… you’re an adventurer. You cross planes and slay dragons. You save nations. You’re a hero.”

There was a melancholy glint in Vax’s eyes as he replied. “And sometimes I fall in love with men. Who told you those things were incompatible?”

“You’re supposed to be saving damsels, aren’t you?” 

“Well, I do, sometimes. But have you _seen_ Keyleth? She doesn’t need _saving._ Taryon, much as I love you, I think you might need to set a little less store by your novels.” Vax took a deep breath, exhaled, and for the first time Taryon realized that the man might not be quite as together as he seemed.

“I’m not entirely sure what to say in this kind of a situation,” Vax confessed. “I was on the other end of the last conversation I had like this.”

“Who was on the other?” asked Taryon before he thought better of it.

“An old friend,” replied Vax. “I’m not sure if you ever met Allura? Very powerful arcanist. Braids down to her knees. I’m at least ninety-percent sure they’re illusory, but I’m not about to grab one and see.”

“And she…”

Vax smiled a sad smile. “I don’t know what things are like where you’re from. But here, at least with us… you’re safe. Nobody’s going to hurt you.” He paused. “Nobody’s going to hurt you for that. People might hurt you for being a bit of a pretentious ass, but that’s true everywhere.” 

A long pause, then they both spoke at once.

“Sorry—” 

“I’m not—”

Tary gestured to Vax. “Go ahead.” 

“Sorry about last night. We shouldn’t have pushed you into that.”

“Oh, it’s— I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t wanted to. I just, well, I guess… I don’t know.”

Vax leaned back on the desk, the raven feathers of his armour glinting in the lamplight, and chewed on his lower lip like he was trying to decide whether to say something. “I mean, this part of it’s not my department. Like I said, I’m not— not all one way or the other. But I’m also not a piece of shit, and I can see when someone’s uncomfortable. We should have known better, and that ‘sorry’ is unconditional on whether you think you need it or not.”

“Thank you, I suppose,” said Tary, feeling a bit foolish.

“You’re welcome.”

There was a very long, very awkward silence. 

“I think that’s the longest I’ve ever heard you be quiet for,” quipped Vax.

Tary sighed shakily and picked up the bundle of woven wire again, rolling it back and forth between his fingers. “Even the brilliant have our moments.”

“I have a friend you should talk to,” Vax said. “I was going to introduce the two of you anyways— he’s quite the connoisseur when it comes to magical items, and I figured you’d have a lot to discuss. Now I just think you have more to.”

“The last time you said you’d introduce me to someone, we wound up here with you apologizing for it,” replied Tary. 

Vax laughed: a strange, unfamiliar sound to Taryon’s ears, but a sweet one. “Shaun and Trish the Dish couldn’t have less in common if they tried, and believe me when I say I’ve got _very_ different intentions with this arrangement than that one. You need a friend, T. You need someone else who gets it.”

“Did you have one of those?” inquired Tary.

“Oh, I had several. Allura. Shaun. My sister.”

Tary raised his eyebrows. “Little elf girl?”

Vax shrugged. “Another thing the two of us have in common.”

Taryon closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again to see Vax standing a few feet away from him, having slid silently off the workbench.

“I don’t usually do these,” Vax said, “but…” He wrinkled his nose. “Would you like a hug? I think you might need one.”

“Your armour smells worse than Grog’s loincloth,” said Tary.

“That’s not a no. C’mere,” said Vax, holding out his arms.

It was stiff and awkward and unfamiliar to both of them, and Taryon Darrington wasn’t entirely sure he hated it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to write a sequel to this. It was interesting and kind of cathartic, and also, I'd absolutely love to explore the catastrophe that would be Tary and Gilmore in the same room. So drop me a comment if you'd be interested in seeing more of Shiny Disaster Gay With Issues Working Through Said Issues.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments make my day if you're able to leave them!
> 
> Today's thing rec is GreenLeafGeek's Etsy shop. She hand-makes beautiful polyhedral dice, and it's worth a trip over there even if all you do is drool over the sparklies.


End file.
